


Of Another Man

by TheArtsDemon



Series: Through the Looking-Glass Lies a Whole New World and it is Full Of Total Assholes [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtsDemon/pseuds/TheArtsDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a man who looks exactly like Cullen Rutherford, but is in fact exactly nothing like him. A Mirror AU told in several drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dog

He was six, and already sick of endless fields. At night he dreamt of chevaliers, and masks with colourful plumes. By day he stole a kitchen knife, and played pretend to slay a fearsome dragon. The creature never saw it coming, and whimpered in pain as it bled out. Awestruck he stared at his own bloodstained hands. Only his stupid siblings cried over the mabari for weeks, and his father wouldn’t spare him the rod. For being careless and disobedient, so he said. But afterwards Cullen’s clothes didn’t smell like dog anymore, so it was worth it in the end.


	2. farewell

He was thirteen, and it was all Branson’s fault. Both of them could swim, but of course Cullen was much better at it. He was much better, and if his brother had pushed him into the lake, then he would have come back up for air easily. It was not his fault Branson never did. His sisters cried again, but this time his father spared him the rod. Instead he spoke to a travelling Knight-Captain, and promised his last living son to the Chantry. Cullen kicked and screamed when they dragged him away, but for once his sisters stopped crying.


	3. duty

He was eighteen, and mages tasted like anybody else. Her breasts felt soft between his lips, and he bit down harder than she asked. He made her scream his name, and afterwards ordered her to clean up the mess. He liked the stockroom pristine for the next one, and the one after that. Life in the Tower was comfortable and plain; life in the Tower was an unending nightmare. He liked that it fell to him to decide which it would be. He liked that mages understood this by nature, and came to him willingly. The others just came, anyway.


	4. desire

He was eighteen still, and in all his eighteen years she was the only one who had ever truly understood him. Such was the world, that he had to indulge his wishes and needs in dark corners, avoided by the watchful eyes of judgement. Not so her. She took him to darker and deeper places still, and gave him everything he desired, and more. Weeks later Ferelden’s hero put a blade through her heart, and Cullen felt them both die. The demon’s body crumbled to his feet, and her fingers slipped from his mind. The Tower grew dull after that.


	5. ambition

Lake Calenhad’s waters were much like the fields of Honnleath now, but the dreams he had at night were different. They rebuilt what Uldred had tried to destroy, but two of his followers had remained undiscovered, waiting for their chance to strike. They set upon Knight-Captain Hadley in the basement, and burnt the poor man alive. No thinking what else they might have done, without timely intervention of the templar who cut them down. So Cullen’s report said, anyway, but he could see the doubt in Greagoir’s eyes. Doubt, never proof. Still, Cullen was transferred to Kirkwall the same week.


	6. habit

Knight-Captain suited him better, much better than it ever did Hadley. That, at least, Meredith understood rather quickly. Other matters eluded her completely, as they did many in the Order. Did lightning truly cut so much worse than a sharp blade? Were their lyrium-fueled feats truly so distinct from spellwork cast by mages? The Chantry certainly thought as much. It all but fancied magic a disease, and their hands a cure. Cullen did not think to object, as long as the side-effects were his to enjoy. The Gallows had their own stockrooms. And mages here knew the game, as well.


	7. silence

He tried to pray, once. He said the words every day, but they rang hollow compared to all the joys his more pious brothers in the Order described. So Cullen tried. He tried to hear the Maker’s words through the Chant. It rang as dull as it ever did. He saw no god in the candles either, only flickering light, and not enough warmth. A young Chanter approached to replace those that had burnt down. Cullen bent him over the altar, and made him beg in all the words the Chant would allow. The Maker did not hear him, either.


	8. promotion

The Gallows had grown dull under Meredith, his duties more tedious with every passing day. More and more Tranquil filled the mages’ ranks, and Cullen loathed the blank look in their eyes when he took them. But he endured, until one fateful day fire fell from the sky, and let Meredith’s ship sink into chaos. She prayed to the Maker for strength, in the end, but it was not the Maker who gave it. When the battle was done Cullen took the Knight-Commander’s rank from her corpse. A shame there was no way he could have take the sword, too.


	9. trophy

Cullen occasionally wonders where he would be if the Chantry still stood. Would Meredith have pushed the Circle to its breaking point regardless, would he have found a way to oust her all the same? He did not have to take those chances, and for that he is grateful. For that he shows gratitude to those it is due. “Hawke would have left you to your death, you know,” he says idly. “Yes, Knight-Commander,” the healer answers. “Thank you, Knight-Commander,” he adds obediently. The sunburst scar suits Anders’ forehead, but sometimes Cullen misses the fierce blue fire in his eyes.


	10. calling

Cassandra Pentaghast’s eyes burn through him cold, the way his father’s eyes burnt so many years ago, the way Greagoir’s eyes burnt at the Tower. The way he knows fools’ gazes to burn when those who cast them would see his efforts and ambitions, and in their minds twist them into something wrong. Kirkwall stands, and it is his grasp which holds it firm. But he craves what she offers instead, and praises her cause in honeyed words. The Seeker departs curtly, and calls upon another to lead her soldiers. When Corypheus rises he does not make the same mistake.


	11. red

It twists his screams into agony, and Cullen does not recognise the sound. The floor is cold stone underneath him, harsh contrast against the fire in his blood, against the ravaging force his body strains to contain. He makes to scream again; instead red drips from his mouth, and a moan escapes his lips. Since Desire came to him at the Tower he has felt neither joy nor bliss anywhere near this. Cullen closes his eyes, lets it wash over him. For the first time in his entire life, he thinks, he can finally hear the voice of a god.


End file.
